Paris-Robespierre, Danton, Marat, Billaud-Varennes, David, Gracchus Antiboul, &c.—-moved towards the tribune. Robespierre spoke first. He repeated his usual protestation against the existence of the punishment of death; but added that, while the Legislature allowed the penalty to exist, it could not be more fittingly applied than to the enemies of the Republic. "I vote for death!" were his concluding words. Twenty voices echoed the word death, one after another, including Graceus Antiboul. 66 'He, too!" groaned Miranda. "Hush! Here comes Egalité," said Charles Clement, who was pale and trembling with excitement. The Duke of Orleans, father of Louis Philippe, was advancing towards the tribune amid profound silence. Everybody felt that, with the cousin of the King, only one vote was possible. All the curiosity was to hear in what way he would reconcile his democratic with his family feelings. "Of course," said Robespierre, turning towards Clement, who had spoken to him as the leader of the Mountain took a seat near them, "he must vote for exile." The Duke unrolled a paper. "Solely influenced by my duty-convinced that all who have violated, or shall violate hereafter, the sovereignty of the people, merit death-I vote for death.” A silence of horror pervaded the Assembly. Miranda covered her face; the Mountain looked at each other with a shudder. Not a man in the whole Convention admired or approved the horrid act. It was not heroism. It was slavish cowardice, to guard his own life. "The miserable wretch!" said Robespierre. "He had only needed to have looked to the dictates of his heart, and of nature; he would not, dared not, do so. The Republic would have been more magnanimous." "In how many hours, ask me rather," said Charles Clement. "Hours! My God, what am I to do? Charles, I must leave you. I go to meet those who will strive to save him. You cannot accompany me." "I cannot, Miranda," said the young man, warmly; "but beware what you are doing. Nothing can save the King. It is useless struggling. You will only risk your own life uselessly. Take my advice, and abstain." "I have vowed, and I will keep my vow," said the young Countess, who trembled with emotion. "Assist me into this fiacre, and then leave me. We shall meet in the evening." Charles Clement called the coach, put Miranda in it, and then moved away. On entering the hotel, he found an official letter on his table. It was an order from Santerre, to take the command of the National Guard at the Temple during the next thirtysix hours. Charles Clement at once put on his uniform, and, mount> ing a horse, galloped towards the royal prison, which he entered with the commissioners appointed by the Convention, to announce to Louis his condemnation. "When?" said the young man, in a whisper, to Santerre. The Duke regained his seat, degraded even in the eyes the chief object in view; for, as to any fear of their succeedof the most bloody and extreme of the Hebertists. The voting continued some time longer. "Have you kept any account ?" said Miranda, in a low whisper, while her breath came and went in fitful heavings. "No! But it is still doubtful," replied Charles Clement. Morning was approaching, and the voting was declared closed. Vergniaud took the chair, and, pale and ghastly, rose to proclaim the result. His hands trembled. At this instant, a deputy, Duchatel, was carried in on a litter, in his bed-clothes. He came to vote against death-himself dying. ing, I have none." "Nor I," said Charles Clement, scarcely able to hide his deep and intense emotion. "But there is no accounting for these Royalists. The more mad the enterprise, the more they join in it." "I suspect there are more than Royalists in it. Venal and tender-hearted Republicans are at the bottom."** "I know it. In the Commune itself, the King has accomplices; but they shall be known; and known, they shall all be punished." And Santerre moved away, to join the commissioners. Charles Clement remained alone with his thoughts, Vergniaud corrected the figures, and gave them out in which were far from pleasant. The danger which Miranda a voice of unspeakable agony. Seven hundred and twenty-one members had voted. Three hundred and thirty-four voted for exile or a prison until peace. Three hundred and eighty-seven for death, including the forty-six who voted for death with suspension of the execution. There was only a majority of seven votes for immediate|| death. Take away the Duke of Orleans, Vergniaud, Brissot, and Rolland, and the majority would have been a minority. Miranda rose, her veil drawn over her face alone conceiling her agony, and left the Convention with Charles Clement. "In how many days will he die?" whispered she, as they gained a street at some little distance from the Assembly. was now about to run was still more evident to his mind, and he was her chief antagonist. To pass the time, he ordered out the National Guard who were on duty, save those who were sentries.. His eye glanced down the ranks carelessly, and, by a great effort of energy, he mastered his agitation, In the disguise of National Guard, he recognised M. Broun, Paul Ledru, Duchesne, and some dozen men who were notorious Royalists. He had seen many of them at the Tuileries on the 10th August. He sent for Santerre, as if to ask some new instructions. “General," said he, “grant me a favour, and the whole conspiracy is broken up." "Whatever it be, my dear Clement, is granted," replied Santerre. The They took up a position in the court; the gate opened, and the head of a sans-culotte column appeared. National Guard looked wildly at each other. "Carry arms!" cried Charles Clement. The National Guard obeyed, and next moment stood in presence of double the number of sans-culottes. "Citizens !" said Charles Clement, severely addressing the National Guard, "I have an objection to commanding a force of so mixed a character as yours. Besides, a rescue of Louis is talked of," and his eye was full of meaning to Broun, Duchesne, and many others; "and I feel more safety here, surrounded by the children of Paris and Marseilles. You are relieved from your guard." The National Guard, stupified, made no reply. Charles Clement lost no time. Every sentry was relieved; and, in a quarter of an hour, the whole body of conspirators were out of the Temple. CHAPTER VIII. THE DEATH OF LOUIS XVI. Twenty-four hours after, a carriage left the Temple, on its way to the Place de la Revolution. In it were four men. These four men were Louis XVI., two gendarmes, and the last confessor of the unfortunate monarch. Sixty drums beat loudly at the head of the procession, which was composed of National Guards, the Marseillais, regular troops, both of infantry and cavalry, with gendarmes and artillery. Not a living soul was allowed to cross the Boulevard, or the streets from the Temple to the Place de la Revolution. All citizens were commanded to keep within doors on the line of the procession, and not even to show themselves at the windows. The sky was heavy, with a thick fog in the air. Pikes and bayonets lined the whole road, while cannon, loaded with grape, guarded the main thoroughfares and approaches. "Could not a reinforcement be sent?" asked Gracchus. "It would excite suspicion, and put them on their guard,” replied Robespierre, and he rode off to join St. Just and Lebas, who were examining the other line. "Until to-night," said Gracchus; and the two young men exchanged a solemn greeting. Charles Clement remained alone; and, turning his back on the Boulevard, gazed curiously at the houses around. A house at the corner of the nearest street attracted his attention. He thought he noticed an unusual number of faces at some of the upper windows, while a lad on the roof, looking towards the Bastile, seemed a scout. Besides this, at the end of the street, a number of young men stood in a group. "March a patrol down yonder street, and disperse that group," said Charles Clement to a sergeant. The soldier obeyed readily; and a patrol, with a drum beating, soon scattered the crowd, which gave way before it, and disappeared-they could not see how. Clement felt uneasy. He seemed to know that there was more behind this than he could as yet fathom, while a fear of a terrible and wild nature filled his brain. He moved up and down impatiently, and was only roused from a moody reverie by the arrival of the head of the procession. The solemn beating of sixty drums awoke all his attention. He formed his men in double line, and prepared to receive the cortege. Behind the drums came General Santerre and his heavy escort. Both the general and his men were silent. Then came the carriage, at which Charles Clement gazed mournfully, but without remorse, for to him, though regretting the scene, a great act of retribution was being accomplished. The carriage, which was surrounded by a heavy escort of gendarmes, was just in front of Charles Clement, and was going very slowly down the hill. "Look out!" cried a sentry from behind the piquet commanded by Charles Clement. "Help! those who would save the King," cried a hundred voices. "Vive le Roi!" shouted others. The Republican turned round. A couple of hundred The terrible Commune of the city of Paris were resolved young men, amongst whom Charles recognised de Jarjais, that nothing should rob them of their prey. Despite the orders of the municipality, crowds assembled on the line of march, but not a cry, not a murmur, not an insult, was heard. The Paris mob, usually so noisy, were stifled by emotion. Charles Clement commanded a detachment at the mouth of a narrow street between the Portes St. Denis and St. Martin. He had four hundred sure Republican National Guards under his orders. He had occupied the position from dawn of day. About six, a body of horse galloped up. At the head of it were several representatives. the Baron de Batz, Devaux, and one or two others, were rushing headlong at the procession; another body seemed ready to guard the street, while more again were unpaving the street. In half an hour, barricades would have been erected in the name of royalty in Paris streets. "Vive la Republique!" thundered Charles, rushing, sword in hand, to meet the Royalists. "Vive le Roi!" they replied, raising a cry which for years was to resound no more. The National Guard had wheeled round, and completely blocked up the way; so much so, that the procession moved Charles Clement recognised Gracchus Antiboul and Ro-quietly on, as if nothing had happened. bespierre. "Salut!" said Robespierre. "What news?” replied Charles. "Be watchful. A rescue will be tried. Our police report that it is just at this spot that that audacious vagabond de Jarjais will attack the procession. We rely on you." VOL. XVI.-NO. CLXXXVII. The conspirators saw that here all was lost; and as they had many other points agreed on, they gave way. "Sauve qui peut!" thundered the Baron de Vaux. But the National Guard bore hotly down upon them, and they were compelled to defend themselves. The Royalists fought with desperation. Not one would surrender. Not a 2 M "Vive la Republique!" again thundered Charles Clement, urging his men on. shot was fired. Sword, pike, bayonet, did the work. The || put to death a king. Painful as was the act, it was necesconspirators blocked up the street, and kept the Republicanssary to destroy the king-worship of the people, who, since at bay. this day, have admired, feared, loved, obeyed, power, but never worshipped or looked on it as something mystic and divine, which it were sacrilege to touch. The mob of Paris now knew that a king is but a man, and sometimes a very sorry one, worthy only according to his acts, and even more responsible than others; for, of those to whom much is given, much shall be required. The Royalists replied by their cry as warmly; and though falling before fresh assailants, still held out. At last, not twenty remained. The sans-culottes came up. These terrible men went in, pike in hand, to do the work of death. The small knot had placed their backs against a narrow porte cochere, the bell of which one rang furiously all the time. Clement saw that they had hope of escape, and strove to capture them. He resolved to rush on them, and disarm them; but the ardour of the sans-culottes was too much for him. He was impelled on; and, in the feverish excitement of the moment, again spoke : "La Republique! Vive la Republique!" he cried. "La Nation! Vive la Nation!" replied a young man, who fought with one hand, while he pulled at the bell with the other. The voice had a magic effect. To rush forward, to turn on his own men, to shrick them back, to wave his sword wildly round the youth, to shield him, while he passed through the half-open wicket, by his own body, was for Charles Clement the work of an instant. The Royalist has escaped!" yelled the sans-culottes. "Treason!" cried some, waving their pikes over the young man. "He was alone. All the rest were dead," replied Charles Clement, coldly. "I came to fight, not to murder. I thought I was fighting at the head of true Republicans.” The sans-culottes still murmured; but unwilling to lose time, they plunged at the door, and it fell open. All rushed in, and at their head Charles, who, by his eagerness, regained somewhat the confidence of his men, They searched the house from garret to cellar, but they found nothing. "Thank God," whispered Charles Clement, "she is safe." Regicide is as bad as any other murder-no more, no less; but there are periods in the world's history when a link requires to be broken. No monarch ever yet hesitated to let thousands fall to suit his schemes and views; and if once now and then the life of a king be necessary to the people, they take but trifling retribution. Count the millions slain by kings! Count the kings slain by the millions, and judge between them. Charles Clement went away, silent and moody, towards Miranda's dwelling, impatient to hear news of her escape. As he entered her street, a dozen sans-culottes surrounded him. They had been watching for him for more than an hour. "Thy sword, citizen," said one. "To whom speakest thou?" "To the citoyen Charles Clement, whom I arrest by virtue of this mandat," said a police agent. "Of what am I accused?" "Of Royalism, and aiding the escape of a Royalist." Charles Clement laughed outright. "Ay! laugh!" said the sans-culotte, "but come, thou canst tell thy story to the citoyen accusateur public." "Thou wilt accuse Robespierre of Royalism next," said our hero, still laughing. "Who knows?" said one. "Mirabeau was a traitor," replied another. "Citoyen!" said a gentle voice at his elbow. Charles Clement turned, and saw Rose, the maid. "The citoyenne Miranda awaits you." "Tell her," replied Charles, "I was about to visit her, He had saved Miranda from certain death, by recognising but that the citoyen accusateur public has sent for me. her voice, despite her strange disguise. After a long search, he re-formed his men; and leaving a piquet in possession of the house, he turned to the Boulevard, and advanced to the Place de la Revolution. He reached the Rue once Royale, and looked down. He saw a sea of heads, a hundred thousand upturned faces, and a forest of bayonets, illumined by the faint rays of a wintry sun, and in the centre four upright posts, blood red, and the lofty groove of the guillotine. Dead silence prevailed. Suddenly a salute of artillery was heard, a cry of Vive la Republique, a huge breath, as if of millions awakening, and the young man knew that the tragedy was over. Charles Clement turned away to hide a tear. Much as he hated the King, the race, the system, which had fallen that instant never to rise again, except in a fitful ghostly gust, he pitied the man, and the Republican wept over the grave of the King, The city, mute with astonishment, went to its home; and that night many a mother kissed her child, and wife her husband, and blessed themselves they were only poor people. Paris had often enough before rebelled against its tyrants and oppressors, and sent them forth in search of safer quar ters; but now, for the first time, the people had calmly Bid her see Robespierre, and tell him of my position, also Gracchus Antiboul." Rose tremblingly replied she would, and then Charles Clement was marched off to the prison of the conciergerie by his republican guard. CHARLES CLEMENT RECEIVES A SUDDEN CHECK. For more than three weeks Charles Clement remained strictly au secret. He neither received communications from without, nor could he himself send forth communica tions. He saw no one. He was in a cell by himself, knowing of the world only through the fact of his jailor bringing him food at stated hours, but speaking never. The young republican remained ignorant alike of the dangers and glories which were crowding round the land. He knew not that war without and treason within were threatening the existence of his land, Neither did he know the efforts making by his friends for his salvation. Gracchus and Miranda laboured day and night. They demanded interviews of Fouquier Tinville, of Marat, of Danton, of all who had power. Robespierre refused to interfere, pleading his want of power. Money, promises, tears, all were used to obtain an interview with him, but in vain. Letters were sent to him; they never reached him. At night Miranda wandered like a ghost round the gloomy prison, but in vain. She attended the Revolutionary tribunal every day. Never was Paris in such a state. The neglect of Charles Clement, by his political friends, was fully to be excused. Fatal reverses had taken place. Lyons and La Vendee had given the signal of civil war. Custine had been defeated. Dumourier had soiled his previous glorious career by treachery. War had been declared against England, Holland, Spain, and Germany. The Convention made the danger known. A black flag was hung on the cathedral towers. The rappel beat during twenty consecutive hours in every quarter of Paris, and the people flew to arms. During this very twenty hours Charles Clement was summoned before the Revolutionary Tribunal, presided over by Fouquier Tinville. It was early in the morning, and scarcely a soul was present, save a batch of about a dozen accused, the officials, and a man who passed his days in the court. This was Paul Ledru; but by neither sign nor sound did he show that he recognised his beloved master. "Citizen Charles Clement," said Fouquier Tinville, with one of his hideous smiles-and this wretch was truly a fiend incarnate-thou art accused of treachery to the Republic. Mille millions de bombes! I couldn't have believed it." Five minutes after, Charles Clement was condemned to death, and ordered for execution at daybreak on the following day. He made no reply, but made way for the next victim, who had a better fate. It was a young girl, whose arrest having been proved to be the act of private revenge, the accuser took her place, and was sent to prison for two years, the man narrowly escaping the guillotine. When their political passions were not excited, these men were always just. Paul Ledru had quitted the hall the instant after the condemnation of Charles Clement, who was shortly after removed to a vast cell, in company with those who were to be his comrades in the morning. They were nine in number, and himself made ten. They were all men, and one of them was a priest. They came in sullen, and sat down on the heaps of straw which lay on each side, and on which so many were yet to lie, to await a bloody rising. The priest alone sat not down, but lifted up his voice, and prayed aloud. 'Silence," said one, a middle-aged man, condemned to "And thou doesn't believe a word of it," replied Clarles death for exciting a mob to pillage a baker's shop; "we Clement, quietly. The gendarmes who stood around looked astonished; the President pushed back his hair, and the jury laughed; they were some of the assassins of September, picked out by the atrocious Commune, which did its best to cover Revolutionary principles with everlasting odium. "What mean'st thou?" asked Fouquier. "Thou knowest perfectly well, citoyen accusateur public, that I am as good a republican as thyself, if not better; but thou hast thy instructions; follow them out." "Citoyen, answer thy accusation." "I am ready." ***Thy name?'' "Thou knowest it." Thy age?" Twenty-seven." 66 "Thy profession?"" "Republican soldier and patriot.” Wast thou not affianced to an aristocrat?"" have had enough of that croaking all our days." "Hush," replied Charles Clement, sternly; "you do not mean what you say. We are all about to die, and to meet our God with our sins upon our heads. Think you, scoffer, that you will die less happy, because a minister of his word has offered you comfort?" "I don't know," said the man, sullenly. "I am pleased to meet one,' ," said the priest, meekly, "who has respect for Heaven and its will. This man who scoffs is a Royalist too "But I am a Republican, but none the less a believer. My condemnation is the result of a mistake. But I murmur not. My country is in trouble enough, without caring about me." "You are a Republican, and believe in God?" said the priest, surprised. "It is because I believe in God, in his goodness, in his mercy, that I am a Republican, Monsieur the curé. As I understand sacred history, God created man to enjoy the "I was afflanced," said Charles Clement, sternly, "to earth and its fruits. I find kings and nobles occupied solely an angel who is now in heaven, with God." "With the Etre Supreme, if thou wilt," said Fouquier Tinville, "but this angel was, I think, a duchess." "She was, and my cousin." "Good! cousin to a duchess, and her affianced husband; and after confessing this, and it is proved thou aidest the escape of de Jarjais, thou would'st be thought a patriot. Where are thy proofs of civism?" Ask the 14th July. Ask the 10th August," replied Charles. "Ask Robespierre." "All very good, but proving nothing," said Fouquier Tinville. "On those two days thou mayest have done thy duty, to be a traitor afterwards, and the citoyen Robespierre may have been deceived." they roused up, and before many minutes, the Cell of Death was a chapel of adoration. Prayer over, the victims cowered on the straw, or walked about, or talked. Some slept, and even heavily, dreaming was not sufficient to save a suspect. I dared not affront "Now, citizen Clement-why, I have come to save you of green fields, and young days, and happy hours, and wak-out of desperation. This citoyenne leaves me no peace. At ing with a start, to know that life was nearly over. The my own door I meet her every day; at the Convention gate Royalist agent of emeute walked about in a towering pas. I meet her at night." sion. "Never mind," cried Miranda; "he is safe; 'tis to thee we owe his life.' "Nay, to thee. This morning she came to my room, forced her way in, told me, before St. Just, the story of her disguise, and how you became suspected. I saw at once that no political motive actuated you, and I determined to save you." "Thanks!" cried Charles-"thanks to all." "But, Citizen,” said Robespierre, "a word with you. Remember we are in terrible times, in times when we cannot be moderate; be tight of tongue, and firm of act, and judge not the Revolution hastily. Nor do you judge me too quick. The emigrants and the coalition have thrown defiance, and war, treason, and myriad spies at us. We must, above all, save the Republic. If we lose, while so doing, our lives, and even our fame, it matters not. What boots it I am thought a ruffian, so my principles live? Be firm, honest, and true to liberty, and we shall go hand in "As an accomplice of that agent of the foreigner, who hand." was pushing the people to pillage." "The Republic before all," replied Charles. "But are we not about to leave?" "Nay, there is a condition imposed on your liberty," said Robespierre. "A condition!" cried Miranda. A condition!" repeated Charles. "Yes! a condition. It is a fancy of my own, but one 'Pity we could not give our breasts to the enemy, in- which shall be accomplished ere you leave this prison, or I stead of our necks to the fatal knife." ་་ 'Pity, indeed," said the young man. "I would not care perishing in battle against the foreigner, but the guillotine"- and he buried his face in his hands and said no more. CHAPTER X.-THE END. An hour passed, and Charles Clement remained lying on the straw in deep thought. He feared not death; but he regretted not being able to bid adieu to those friends for whom he felt so much affection. Miranda, Gracchus, Paul Ledru, their two wives, all he would have gladly seen once more. "Citoyen Charles Clement," said the jailer, in a deep hoarse voice. "Already!" he murmured. Already!" repeated the nine other victims. The jailer made no reply, but bade the young man move quickly and not keep a public functionary waiting. He followed the turnkey into the passage. It was lined with gendarmes of the Republic. 'Go in there," said the jailer. Charles Clement saw a narrow door before him leading into a chamber; he went in. The door closed behind him. "Saved!'' muttered a voice. abandon you to your fate. You love Miranda ? " "I love Miranda," said Charles, starting back. "You love this young man?" continued Robespierre, turning to the Countess. "I love Charles," exclaimed she, blushing, turning pale, and staggering. "You love one another; but reasons I well appreciate keep you both silent. But for me, months would have passed cre your secret would have been told, because you were scarce conscious of it. But I know it, and my condition is, that you marry on the spot, in the prison. "But we cannot," said Charles. "It is impossible," murmured Miranda. "There-is-one-in-the Hall"-stammered Charles, Robespierre sent for the the priest, who came readily, and the civil and religious contract was speedily passed between them. The condemned to death was the husband of the lovely Countess Miranda; and the devotion, love, and friendship, He raised his eyes. Robespierre stood beside him; and of our heroine was at length fully rewarded. behind Gracchus, Miranda, and Paul Ledru. "Citizen," said Robespierre, quietly, "I never forgot you; but appearances were against you, and my power When the ceremony was over, Robespierre bade them come away, for he was engaged Clement drew him aside, took his hand, pressed it to his |